


ask the always impossible of me

by jillyfae



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (Also Mostly Not Appearing In This Fic, (Mostly Not Appearing But Alec Loves Them A Lot), Alec Lightwood & Aline Penhallow Friendship, Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Background Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Background Izzy & Jace & Max, Background Ragnor & Cat & Dot, But It's Important To Remember That Magnus Has Friends), Cinderella Elements, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy Racism, High Warlock of Alicante Magnus Bane, M/M, Politics, Prince Alec Lightwood, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible...And that's just the beginning.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 59
Kudos: 240
Collections: SHBingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Bingo Square](https://shadowhunterbingo.tumblr.com/): Fuck The Clave

_alec_

No one was happy about the upcoming ball.

Alec wasn’t happy, because how could anyone be happy, being on display like that, judged and weighed and _bid on,_ practically, everyone jostling for their piece of his power?

Isabelle wasn’t happy, because she wasn't allowed to attend. It was only for the heir.

Jace wasn’t happy because Alec and Izzy weren’t happy, which was actually kind of sweet and the only thing that had made Alec smile for the past sennight.

The King wasn’t happy because it was an old tradition, so he couldn’t take credit for anything, and the Queen wasn’t happy because she had no control over it, not the decorations or the timetable or the invitations.

Tradition.

It was a stupid tradition, and honestly, the very fact that it _was_ a tradition that no one could seem to alter, not even a little bit, went against the story that started it completely.

Great-great-couple-of-extra-greats Grandmother Lightwood broke an engagement and ran off with a nobody who was serving at a Harvest Ball, and just because her new wife turned out to be best friends with a Seelie Prince and they finally got a treaty with their prickly neighbors somehow meant every Lightwood heir for the rest of time had to throw that same Ball when they were of age, and make sure the entire damn kingdom, no, the entire damn _world_ could attend, if they wanted.

And the entire damn kingdom was always hoping that history would repeat itself, and the current heir would do something impetuous.

Not that anyone held out much hope of Alec ever doing anything impetuous in the entirety of his life. Alec kind of hoped he’d think of something, because the only benefit to the stupid Ball was that if he _did_ do something there, it would be considered destiny, and he’d actually get away with it for once.

Not that he had an "it" in mind. Or a who to inspire what the nebulous something might turn out to be.

Maybe someone would surprise him.

* * *

_magnus_

_Technically,_ anyone in the world could attend this particular Ball, the first celebration of harvest, of prosperity, after the current heir to Idris came of age. That was the point, after all. One final chance for destiny to turn, for the future to change, to grow into something even better. In theory, anything was possible. New beginnings. Anything or everything... or nothing.

In practice, well-to-do humans from within the kingdom and a few friendly allies were about all that attended, and no one had particular hopes that tonight would be any different than any other Ball.

 _Technically,_ there was no reason not to let Magnus attend. The Ball was open to all, human or not. But Seelies had historically been the only ones to take advantage, and even they only risked a couple attendees.

In practice, it was unlikely he'd make it through the doors. He might be the High Warlock, but that warlock part was always more important than anything else in the eyes of the upper class.

But Ragnor was tired of listening to him complain about the Lightwoods and their racism, and had told him to do something about it, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time?

It seemed like a really _bad_ idea now. But he was here. He couldn't back down now.

Well, he could. But he wasn't going to because then Dot would never let him hear the end of it and Cat would never stop laughing at him.

Not that there was anything wrong with Cat laughing at him, it was a pretty standard occurence honestly, but it was the principle of the thing.

Or something like that.

The main gates were open. He felt the shiver of the Wards wash over him as his carriage rattled over the stones, and he straightened up in his seat with surprise as they warmed, a soft caress against his skin as if in greeting.

He really was welcome.

Well. _Shit._

Now he was actually going to have to go to the Ball. And stay there. And socialize with whoever the _regular_ guests were.

He had not thought this through properly.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_alec_

It was going to be a long night.

Merchants' daughters kept trying to flirt with him, eyelashes blackened to make it easier to flutter them in his direction. (Alec danced, here and there, but carefully _not_ the waltz, and never twice with the same person.) The nobles that had already learned he never flirted back were trying instead to impress him with their children's practicality or wit, stopping him for a quick word by the refreshments, or by one of the balcony doors that were cracked just enough to let shivers of the cold outside air into the overheated ballroom.

At least a few of them had suspicions, or hopes, he wasn't sure which, and had aimed their _sons_ at him this time. He danced with them too, because he could, tonight, without it necessarily meaning anything.

He wished he could let it mean something.

There were a few Seelies in attendance, even a werewolf Alpha and his family, though the Garroways were more interested in greeting Alec's _parents_ than in introducing Alec to their children, and Maryse and Robert had both seemed honestly glad to see them. Alec's mother had even let one small sincere smile free, and her voice had softened in a way Alec hadn't heard in years.

Yet another thing he wished could mean something.

And then, almost late enough to be treading the line between _fashionable_ and _rude,_ a warlock swanned his way through the main doors as if he had every right to be there.

The fact that he _did_ hadn't been enough for a warlock to attend in almost a hundred years.

The whole room paused for just a moment, looking up at him at the top of the stairs. He lifted his chin, just a notch, claiming their stares as his due even as he entirely dismissed their judgement, and descended to the main floor more gracefully than Alec thought that any royal had ever managed.

The fact that he was honestly the most beautiful person Alec had ever seen did not seem to be part of the whispers he started hearing around him, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

He couldn't remember how to _breathe._

He could feel the weight of the ring box in his pocket, could hear the echo of Izzy's laugh in his head from when she'd pressed it into his hand earlier, and then refused to take it back. _Well if I can't go to make sure you have a little fun, maybe this will remind you to let loose a little._

His heart was beating too hard in his chest as he watched the man make his way across the room, and he still wasn't sure he was breathing. It was as if the entire rest of the Ball, no the Palace, the _world_ , had disappeared in favor of this one, stunning, impossible man.

_Who is he?_

Luckily Alec had just been talking to Aline, almost secluded next to one of the marble pillars circling the central dance floor, so no one else noticed he'd lost his fucking mind over a pretty face.

And pretty _everything else,_ dear gods, the stranger's trousers were practically painted on, and his sleeves were so tight Alec wondered if he'd made his seamstress cry with the fitting of them.

Or maybe it was all just magic?

He was magic incarnate.

He was _perfect._

" _Alec,_ " Aline hissed in his ear, and he blinked himself back into reality.

Reality still had the warlock in it, still improbably beautiful as he escorted the Alpha's wife, Jocelyn, into a dance. She was laughing, and he had a fond smile of his own; they clearly already knew each other.

Reality was not going to help him get his act back together, Alec just wanted to _stare,_ wanted to watch the way the man moved, wanted to work his way closer to hear if his voice was as graceful as the rest of him, as warm as the smile he'd offered to Mistress Garroway.

There was kindness there, and humor, and the sharp glint of his eyes as he looked around made it clear he knew _exactly_ what he'd risked, coming here, even tonight when no one could tell him no.

Not _just_ a pretty face.

Alec swallowed, and made himself turn to look at Aline instead. Her expression was an unruly combination of delight and horror and surprise, though she managed to strangle it back into something mostly just polite when he tightened his lips at her, a hint of a side-to-side shake in the shift of his head.

"You could go ask him to dance," she offered, then coughed to stop herself from cackling or swearing, he wasn't sure which. "You could do that, tonight."

_But tomorrow..._

For once he decided to ignore tomorrow. For once he'd ignore his head and follow the ache in his heart instead.

_Towards him._

He didn't even know the man's _name._

But he could find out.

Alec nodded.

Aline's eyes widened, the surprise back full-force, and Alec turned and left before either of them talked him out of it.

* * *

_magnus_

He'd been more grateful than he'd expected at the sight of Lucian and Jocelyn: familiar faces, and friendly ones. The night wouldn't be a total loss, a fact he bestowed upon Jocelyn as if it was high praise for her rather than a back-handed compliment comparing her to the conniving souls filling the room, and he relaxed even more when she laughed.

"I feel sorry for the Prince, honestly," she confided in him when the dance spun them close together. "All these people are practically salivating over the chance to get close to him."

"You don't think he enjoys the attention?" Magnus asked, curious despite himself. The Lightwoods weren't a family known for their _lack_ of ambition or arrogance. "Isn't that the whole point, after all?"

"I don't think so, not for him." Jocelyn's voice turned a little wistful. "Maybe it was just nice to see Her Majesty smile, and I'm remembering who we all used to be, rather than who we are now."

Magnus snorted softly. He didn't think he'd _ever_ heard of the Queen smiling in public. "Did you slip something into her drink?"

Jocelyn slapped his shoulder, and he offered her an apologetic bow over her hand as their song came to an end.

He stood to the sight of the Prince himself approaching them, and he prepared himself to smile politely no matter what. Maybe Jocelyn was right, and said Prince just wanted a dance with a married woman who wouldn't then have raised expectations?

But the Prince greeted Jocelyn, who curtsied politely with a murmured _Your Highness_ , and then he turned just enough to make it clear he expected an introduction to _Magnus._

Which was really quite unfair of him, being polite, considering how unreasonably attractive he was, all tall and dark and handsome, with eyes soft enough to make him _pretty._ He continued to be polite to Jocelyn, to Magnus, even in the way he said it had been nice to meet Lucian, and Magnus _believed_ him, believed every single word.

Jocelyn slipped away to dance with her husband after a few minutes, but the Prince stayed. They conversed through the entirety of the next song, and then another, and another. They talked about the music, and the decorations, and the Prince even slipped in a comment about being _glad_ to see that Mr. Bane had accepted the open invitation... and Magnus still believed him.

It seemed this was going to be a pleasant night despite all of his worst expectations. He thought maybe he could talk with His Highness Alec Lightwood for hours, and never mind the time at all.

He might even wish for a few extra hours tonight, if he knew they could be spent like this.

"May I have this dance?" The Prince asked, one hand held out, an elegant line from elbow to wrist, and Magnus put his own hand into it before he could think of a reason not to.

His heart almost stopped, and some tender part of his soul awoke at the feel of Alec's hand in his.

"I would be honored," Magnus answered, and was disconcerted to realize he meant it.

Alec _smiled,_ startled and delighted and _beautiful,_ as if he'd truly believed Magnus would decline, and all Magnus could think was _oh no,_ because somehow he'd skipped right past potential into something _real,_ something approaching hope, or maybe even joy.

Alec was a serviceable dancer, formal rather than playful or showy, not that Magnus blamed him, considering the fact that everyone was watching them as the familiar triple-beat of the waltz filled the room. Not that Magnus cared, not with the feel of Alec's arms and hands against his, the warmth of his body almost close enough to touch.

"I apologize," Alec whispered after their first almost silent turn about the room, "I perhaps should have warned you before I let you accept."

Magnus couldn't have stopped his smile if his life depended upon it, couldn't resist the warmth in Alec's voice, the worry clear in his eyes. "I knew what I was getting into, attending this Ball."

"But maybe not waltzing with me." The Prince managed to shrug without losing his step. "I haven't waltzed in years."

Magnus felt his eyes widen, felt the glint of gold beneath his glamour. He'd known that, remembered it now, recalled how that was always part of the gossip that wove its way through town after every formal event, the fact that the Prince never waltzed, never gave any hint as to any potential prospects, always polite but never _encouraging._

"Is this a political statement, then, dancing with the only warlock to enter the Palace socially in a century?" Magnus didn't think it was, not really, but it was the sort of politics he'd encourage, nonetheless. It was all he'd wanted out of this evening before he met the Prince, a chance to hit the Lightwood's wall of propriety hard enough to cause a crack, something he or his people might be able to use to start to change things for the better in the future.

It wasn't at all what he wanted, now.

That time Alec almost faltered, one step just the slightest bit off, and Magnus swung him around in a turn fancy enough to hide it, so no one else would notice.

"Is that a no?" Magnus whispered, that agony of hope back in his chest, sharp between each heartbeat.

"No," Alec breathed out, "I mean, yes, of course not, I mean... _Magnus._ "

Magnus' hands clenched too tight in their grip, his breath stuttered in his throat, and it was only the heat of Alec's hand in his that kept him from stumbling at the sound of his name _like that._

But before he could ask, could say, could do anything, he heard the music shift, and the Prince stepped back to clap for the musicians, his eyes dark and his eyebrows heavy as he stared at Magnus, as if he was trying to communicate something important with just that look.

All Magnus could think was _oh, I wish I could kiss you._

He didn't believe that was what the Prince was trying to say, though he was reasonably confident that Alec wouldn't disagree with the sentiment.

He wondered how a night like this could end, if it was _Magnus meeting Alec,_ rather than the High Warlock of Alicante meeting the Prince of the Realm.

He wasn't sure how to ask, especially here, especially now, with the rest of the Ball converging on them, with Alec's parents approaching and the nobles circling, with everyone watching him so very closely, waiting to see what would happen next, on this, the one night when anything was possible.

He let himself fall back on manners instead, let the Prince present him to their Royal Majesties and pretended he didn't remember how long they'd let Morgenstern work unchecked.

He wondered, not for the first time, what had finally pushed them to confront their Prime Minister, what finally made them stop him.

Valentine Morgenstern had been convicted and executed twenty years ago, and Magnus still didn't have any answers.

Magnus had always just assumed they'd realized that Morgenstern was eventually going to turn on them too, that someday he'd push too far and they'd _all_ lose, but now. Now he wondered if it was simpler than that, if they'd looked at their five-year-old, just old enough to start asking questions about his parents, his life, and realized the troubles their son was going to inherit weren't what they wanted to give him.

How could anyone look into Alec's eyes and not want to give him the world?

_How am I this far gone so fast?_

He didn't know, and he couldn't ask. The heir could challenge fate tonight, but only the heir.

No one else.

So Magnus let the tide of the Ball turn, watched as the Prince was washed away from his side, and got back to work. He talked, he danced, he was as aggressively charming as he could get away with, and still, every time he paused his eyes were drawn towards Alec.

And every time, Alec was looking back at him, eyes dark and gaze steady.

But he didn't make a move.

Of course he didn't.

Magnus didn't know why he'd thought, why he'd even considered...

Until it had to be close to three in the morning, the Ball starting to empty out, quieting but not quite done, not yet, and Magnus felt a tug on his sleeve, and the Prince whisked him into one of the receiving rooms, the door closing softly behind them.

"Your Highness," Magnus started, not even sure what he was trying to say, what he wanted, what he needed... and Alec winced, and he stopped trying, just shook his head, helplessly, as Alec gathered his hands together. He looked at Alec, and Alec looked at him, _just looked,_ his eyelashes dark against the too-pale expanse of his skin, gleaming like moonlight, like every impossible desire Magnus had ever had.

" _Alexander,_ " Magnus tried again, and Alec smiled, soft and warm and wistful.

"I could ask you anything tonight, couldn't I?" Alec's voice was even softer than his smile, barely loud enough to carry.

"You could," Magnus answered.

"But you can't."

Magnus' lips parted, and he couldn't tell if the taste in the back of his throat was sweet or sour. But he'd thought the same himself, hadn't he? "No, I can't."

"And if I'd met you yesterday, yesterday I couldn't have... or tomorrow."

Magnus shook his head, ignored the burn in his throat, behind his eyes.

"And if I asked, then tomorrow." Alexander stopped, had to stop to breathe, too deep, too fast, his grip tightening around Magnus' hands. "Tomorrow you'd be the exception that proves the rule, tomorrow the fact that I asked you tonight would be proof that I couldn't, shouldn't, ask those questions the rest of my life."

Magnus didn't understand, he didn't know. He almost? He couldn't... Magnus squeezed back, Alexander's fingers so cold in his, and waited.

"I'm not going to ask, well. I am, I'm." Alec stopped, shook his head, cleared his throat.

Magnus waited.

"I'm not going to ask, not until I can invite you back, until you can bring your friends and allies here to the Palace, here to any event we host, until I can ask you _properly_ , until you're not just an exception."

_Oh._

"I'll wait," Magnus breathed out.

Alec's eyes widened, and he shook his head again. "You don't, I can't. I can't ask that of you."

"Yes, you can." _Please,_ Magnus thought, almost begged out loud. _Please, ask me._

Alec's gaze flickered back and forth, searching Magnus' face, looking for... something. Magnus didn't know what it was, but apparently Alec found it, because he smiled, one half of his mouth higher than the other, crooked and sincere. He slipped his hands free of Magnus' grip and cradled Magnus' jaw between his palms; he leaned forward and let his lips brush against Magnus' mouth, brief and light and so, so sweet. "Wait for me, Magnus?"

"Yes."

He felt Alec shudder, watched his eyes close, then open again, slow and tender. "Thank you."

Magnus shook his head, tried not to fall into Alec's body as his hands slipped away. "No, thank you. For what you're trying to do."

"I should—" Alec looked away, a flush across his cheeks, tension in his shoulders. "I shouldn't have needed to meet you to know it needed to be done."

" _Darling,_ " Magnus whispered. "You knew, or meeting me wouldn't have changed a thing. You would have been perfectly happy with your singular exception."

_I would have accepted being an exception. The fact that you want more..._

Alec swallowed, hard enough Magnus could see the jerk down his throat. "I have, I mean."

Magnus raised his eyebrows. There was more?

Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, a small square one. Just the size for a ring. "I want you to have this."

Magnus took it, tried to stop his fingers from trembling as he opened it, as he looked down at the Lightwood family crest, shaped in cool white gold and resting on black velvet.

"If," Alec coughed. Magnus looked up to meet his eyes. "If ever you change your mind, if it's not enough, if it takes too long... just send that back to me."

Magnus shook his head, desperate, harder and harder as Alec kept talking. "No, I won't."

Alec reached out, closed the box, wrapped Magnus' fingers around it, wrapped his own hands around Magnus'. "We can't know what's going to happen tomorrow. That's all this is. Just in case."

Magnus swallowed, and nodded. He slipped the box in his jacket pocket, and then looked at Alec, at the line of his shoulders and the glint of the silver circlet in his hair, at the fading pink in his cheeks and the way the light caught in his eyes. "You need one too, then. Just in case."

Alec started to shake his head, but stopped, an inelegant jerk as Magnus frowned at him, as he realized he wasn't going to win this argument.

Magnus, however, had not been _prepared_ for this sort of thing to happen at the Ball, and it took a moment for him to decide what to offer in exchange.

Most of his rings wouldn't do, too fancy, too large or ostentatious, too clearly _his_ , not the sort of thing the Crown Prince would wear at all.

But he thought about that wince, _that sigh,_ and realized he wasn't choosing a ring for _His Royal Highness,_ he was choosing a ring for _Alexander._ He spread his fingers wide, displaying them between him and Alec, and felt the first start of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

If he was going to be a _Lightwood_ , then Alexander was going to be a _Bane._

He pulled off the signet ring with the 'B' in the middle and turned his hand around, placing it in the middle of his palm. "I'll always be able to find you, with this." Magnus shrugged, couldn't quite make himself meet Alec's eyes, tapped a thumb against the 'M' ring that he was still wearing. "They're a set."

"Are they?" Alec whispered. He didn't say _just like us,_ but Magnus could hear the hope in his voice, could feel the echo of it in his own thoughts.

Alexander took the ring. It disappeared somewhere into one of his own pockets. "Thank you."

Magnus offered him a smile, but neither of them said any of the things they were thinking. Alec leaned in to kiss Magnus again, short and sharp, and escaped back into the public eye.


	2. Chapter 2

_alec_

Alec started with the Seelies. They were already allies after all, thanks to that original Harvest Ball. They were already considered equals in theory, even if they mingled less than they used to, back before Valentine Morgenstern and his Circle. But there were a lot of human supremacy laws and ordinances and attitudes in Idris, and if he started dismantling them _specifically_ to allow more freedom for Seelies, by the time he was done he'd have completely "accidentally" gotten rid of most of the legal impediments to werewolves and warlocks having freer access throughout the country as well.

He could have gone right for the warlocks, of course, but he didn't think it would last that way, thought it would become about recognizing power rather than making them _people._ It would take longer if he left the warlocks 'til last, but he knew he had to do this _right._

First he went to Meliorn, the Head of the Seelie Embassy's Guards, and made sure what he was planning would be received well. Meliorn smirked and promised to say hello to High Warlock Bane the next time they met.

Alec managed to thank him without turning bright red, but it was a close call.

Next he suggested to Izzy that she might want to throw a reception to welcome the new rotation of guards for the Seelie Embassy next spring. She'd have to start smaller, of course, work her way up to it, but wouldn't that be a feather in her cap, to have pulled it off? He pointed out how little their mother would like it, felt slightly bad at how well that worked even if their mother completely deserved it, and promised to attend and stay the whole damn night without scowling at _anyone._

(She had no idea how easy a promise that was to make, because he knew she'd invite every High Warlock and Alpha in the country, and the ones that lived here in Alicante were sure to attend. There'd be no reason to scowl when he got to see Magnus again.)

Once he got her started, she kept going on her own. She invited Seelies to _everything,_ and was planning a party for their Queen's next birthday, and he hadn't even had to suggest it. He was also reasonably sure she and Meliorn were having an affair, but he decided that was none of his business and he'd pretend he hadn't noticed.

Alec also convinced Jace to recruit a new Seelie instructor for the Palace Guards. (Meliorn had given him a good half-dozen names to recommend.) He pointed out that they'd have trouble with the training runs if they didn't get rid of the limits on non-human gatherings in the Palace, and Jace got into a fight with the Master of Ceremonies about it without Alec having to do anything to make his opinion on the matter public. (Jace was always good for making a scene. Even when he knew he'd been set up to draw attention, he never minded.)

The City Guards then had to have a Seelie trainer too, not to be out done by their perennial rivals. The Marshals wanted _two_ next, and Alec knew the Army and Navy would follow suit. They had enough people fighting for precedence they'd deal with the assorted human-specific local ordinances on their own, he'd just keep a careful eye out in case anyone seemed likely to get in trouble before they were done.

(Lydia added five Seelie applicants to the internships at the clerk of courts' offices, the glint of manic delight in her eyes something Alec didn't think anyone but he and John knew how to recognize. Aline petitioned the University all on her own, and when he tried to ask her about it she gave him a hug and kissed his cheek and ran away before he could thank her.)

While his friends and siblings were drawing attention, even Max getting in on it by writing to the Alicante City Council to argue the case for reduced restrictions outside of the Palace as well, Alec did some quiet research. He went to the archives, and the libraries. He read _everything_ he could get his hands on, took notes on legal precedents, on historical texts. He found a court case where one Lady Amalthea had visited and her servants had gotten arrested for being non-nobles and non-humans in the wrong place at the wrong time, and her cousin Lir had almost started a war to get them out before Sophia Lightwood managed to finesse the Courts into sending them all home instead.

Alec pointed out at the end of a particularly dull Clave meeting that Idris might not survive that sort of thing happening again, especially with the fuss his siblings were making. (He rolled his eyes, as if he had no idea why they were being so troublesome right now. Luckily his siblings thought meetings were too dull to bother attending, or one of them might have given away the fact that he'd gotten them all going.) He suggested removing all references to specific races or ranks in their laws. _We wouldn't want to offend some Seelie noble because we didn't include their favorite pixie or brownie, and we don't want to try and list all the possible ranks and bloodlines and miss one somewhere. Think of the paperwork to clear that up!_

His suggestion passed more because everyone wanted the meeting to be over with than because anyone cared enough to agree with him... but he didn't give a damn _why_ they gave him what he wanted, only that they did.

He used a chunk of his personal finances to help pay the clerks, so no one noticed _quite_ how comprehensive a change to the legal code he was making, every instance of 'noble' or 'human' or 'Seelie' being wiped away in favor of the more neutral 'person'. Every law that had separate sections for different offenders was quietly filed away. He was reasonably sure no one realized that was what they'd agreed to, but if he could get it done before they noticed, it would be almost impossible to un-do.

His mother noticed almost immediately. He wasn't sure why he was surprised.

She tried to rein him in, but he countered by asking her if she'd like to see the Garroways again, like to be able to invite them to another Ball some day, (Harvest or otherwise), to meet them in the market and be able to _smile_ without risking _consequences._

"You think we didn't want that? After we realized, after Valentine..." The Queen turned away, and he thought he'd seen moisture in her eyes before she straightened her spine and looked at him again. "There are still too many people who agree with him, we have to move slowly, we have to balance what we want with what the Clave and Court will approve. We had to be careful—"

"Maybe you were too careful." His voice was sharper than he'd intended, and she flinched away in surprise. He gentled his tone, but didn't lower his gaze. "It's the right thing to do, and you know it."

"Just because you want it, just because it's _right,_ doesn't mean it's possible." She sounded tired, and he wondered how many fights she'd lost in her life, how many of them he'd never even noticed she was fighting.

Not that it mattered. She wasn't going to change his mind. "Impossible just means try again. You taught me that."

"Alec." She sighed, clearly still wanting to issue her warning, still wanting him to slow down.

"This is important." Alec swallowed, forced himself not to reach into his pocket to feel the familiar shape of Magnus' ring between his fingers. "I'm not going to stop."

She frowned. _Why,_ she asked him with her expression, and he didn't know how to answer her, didn't know how to tell her that he'd found someone worth risking it all to protect.

"Please," he finally said. "Help me?"

She shook her head, and sighed. "Of course."

He smiled. "Thank you."

Changing the laws wasn't going to be enough, of course. But it was a start.

Izzy making Seelies fashionable with her parties was almost better. Nobles cared more about their place in Society than legalities. Probably because they could _buy_ their way out of most legal troubles, but while that was a related problem, he couldn't fix the whole world all at once.

Something to add to the list, though.

Not like he didn't have enough to do already. Distracting the Clave from how comprehensive his re-writes were until they were done, slowly chipping away at the worst of the Court's bigoted attitudes until they weren't safe to admit to in public, turning any racist commentary back on the speaker any chance he had, but _quietly,_ steadily, so they wouldn't risk fighting back too much in public.

Which of course meant that the King thought now was the best possible time to talk to his heir about arranging a political match.

"Since you didn't make a statement at the Ball, we can start formal negotiations, maybe with the Branw—"

"No." Alec interrupted him. "We will not be doing that."

Robert frowned. "If you had something else in mind, you had your chance to discuss it with us before now, or to take action at Harvest."

_That's what_ that _Harvest Ball is for,_ did not need to be said out loud.

"No." Alec repeated, and left the room.

Alec refused to say anything else, and reminded his parents several times that he was an adult now, and that they couldn't just sign him over to someone else for political capital.

When Robert insisted he turn over the Lightwood ring if he wasn't planning on using it properly, he scoffed out his opinion on _that_. "If you can find it, we'll start this conversation over again."

That stopped them. He saw his mother go still as she put it all together, as she realized that the consequence he'd granted Magnus at the Ball wasn't the pre-planned opening moves of a political gambit, but the inciting incident of a personal one. She mouthed a silent _oh,_ and her eyes were damp and her expression was worried but she didn't say anything else at all.

His father frowned, and his parents left the room, left him _alone_ , and Alec considered that Robert didn't _want_ to put it all together, was perhaps even quite willfully _refusing_ to add one plus one to get to two, and until he gave in to the conclusion in front of him, Alec would have some peace.

He let himself wonder if his mother would try to get his father to understand, or if she'd help him avoid that conclusion as long as possible. He wondered which would be better.

Izzy and Jace teased him a little about his apparent stand-off with their parents, but seemed more relieved that he wasn't letting their parents marry him off than upset that he might be hiding something from them. (It didn't seem to occur to them that he was _capable_ of feeling much of anything, or wanting to hide it if he was. That was... slightly offensive, but mostly a relief.)

Except for Aline and his mother, no one who'd seen him at the Ball seemed to consider that he was capable of anything personal or romantic at all, really. What little gossip there was seemed to have decided that the time he'd spent with _High Warlock Bane_ was a quiet political stunt, a clue to his intentions once he was King.

He'd had a few people approach him, quietly warning him away from that particular political morass, but he played dumb, refused to admit he understood their hints, countered with aggressively naive sincerity, and none of them quite had the nerve to outright say _don't you dare treat those damn warlocks as people,_ so that was something.

Perhaps more than just something, perhaps the first signs that he had a _chance,_ that this might actually work. Improved racial relationships _were_ a priority for him, and if he could manage some of it before sacrificing Magnus to the court of public opinion as a potential consort, that was all for the better, wasn't it?

Any day that didn't include a step backwards was a day he was closer to being able to invite Magnus back for something more than politics.

And every week he wrote letters to Alpha Garroway, to Knight Meliorn, to High Warlock Bane, careful and formal, clear attempts to 'improve relations' in case anyone else saw them. Every week he spent an extra moment on his last letter, letting his fingers linger against the paper, against his signature at the end, hoping that Magnus would understand all the things Alec couldn't say.

Yet.

* * *

_magnus_

Magnus wasn't quite sure where Alexander started in his quest to change the world enough to allow them a proper relationship, a recognized one, but it was clear he'd already had some success by the time the Spring Equinox rolled around. The Princess herself hosted a truly extravagant gala in honor of the seasonal shift of the Guards at the Seelie Embassy, and everyone who was anyone attended.

The Prince didn't dance with anyone, didn't linger too long in his conversations with one singular High Warlock, not enough to give them away, not yet, but Magnus still managed to spend almost half the night in his Alexander's company, and even surrounded as they were by politicians and nobles, he felt like he was floating on air for the next week. (He was aware he failed to keep the tone of their weekly correspondence as professional as usual, but he couldn't make himself care, not after seeing Alec again, gilded by moonlight and surrounded by night-blooming flowers, a hint of that crooked sincere smile on his face when he addressed _Mr. Bane._ )

It was all especially impressive considering the fact that no one besides Magnus seemed to realize it was Alec doing anything at all. It seemed simply like a fortuitous _gestalt_ moment, one slight shift supporting another and another until suddenly there were more Seelies _everywhere,_ in attendance at Court and Clave meetings, serving in public offices and being served at private parties, and the Summer Solstice Ball was hosted _at the Seelie Embassy itself_ rather than the Palace.

Such a shift in precedence was unheard of, and Magnus let himself show his pleasure in the change of things enough to ask the Prince to dance. (The Prince said yes, though it was not this time a waltz, and the Prince made sure to dance most of the night, with Seelies and nobles, men and women alike, but Magnus... Magnus was his last dance, just before dawn, when the stars were just beginning to fade and the central bonfire was down to embers. The air was soft and sweet and warm against their skin, and they both knew exactly how much it meant.)

There was some slight grumbling and gossip about the Prince's taste in partners, but it seemed to be the fact that he'd danced with men _in general,_ not Magnus or any of the Seelies in particular, that had inspired it. It faded surprisingly quickly, in Magnus' opinion, and he took note of how much the city seemed to respect its Prince. He was serious and practical and polite and _pretty,_ and far more popular than he seemed to realize.

It gave Magnus hope, for Alec's sake in general, and their future in particular.

The Fall Equinox offered no such grand events, no formal Harvest Ball to echo last year's, nor any noticeable shift in politics, and Magnus wondered what Alec was working on next, somewhere behind the scenes.

By the time Midwinter came around, Magnus was not surprised to receive only an invitation to the Seelie Candlelit Ball. The Palace kept its New Year's Ball segregated.

It was not until winter was fading away, the snow melting and the breezes warming early the next year, that the country took note of another change in the way things were done: the Honorable Helen Blackthorn was presented at Court, and officially recognized as her father's heir despite her Seelie blood.

The Equinox gala was even grander than the year before, and Magnus managed to share a quiet private toast with Alec right before the speeches started.

Barely a fortnight later, Lady Dulac dragged a pair of werewolves before her County Magistrate to charge them with trespassing and a slew of other petty annoyances, only to discover that the _absolutum dominium_ she claimed they'd over-stepped no longer existed. At least, not how she _wanted_ it to exist; Mistresses Maia and Gretel Roberts were charged a fine for accidentally wandering through her orchards but Lady Dulac was clearly unhappy that it hadn't been worse. There were no extra penalties for the fact that it was _her_ orchard, nothing she could twist or turn to level a harsher sentence against commoners, against two women married to each other, against _non-humans,_ and the political storm she raised was enough that Alec came forward publicly to place himself in her line of fire.

"Yes, I put forward the motion to adjust the legal code to be more consistent for our Seelie allies, but the Clave approved it, the Courts offered no dissionsion, and I do not regret that it has provided a more just and fair society to our werewolf and warlock citizens as well." (Magnus was slightly surprised the King and Queen didn't lock him up in a tower after that, to avoid Dulac attempting to strangle him the first time she got close enough.)

The backlash lasted for well over the rest of the year. Dulac held up part of the budget, and the Royals decided to cover the short-fall with their personal monies and the Palace entertainment fund. There were protests at the Dulac seat, throughout Alicante, both for and against the new changes, and while none of the Royal Family attended on either side, they dismissed all charges against anyone arrested afterwards, quickly and aggressively, until the City Guard stopped arresting anyone at all. (However angry she was, Lady Dulac knew that if any violence escalated on her lands she'd lose her leverage, so she kept her Guard in line as well.)

Magnus didn't get his midsummer dance, (the Seelies hosted the Solstice Ball again, and the entire royal family attended, but none of them danced with anyone), though he and Alec did manage a quiet conversation there, and a few more stilted public greetings.

And all the while their weekly letters slipped somehow, slowly, inexorably, into something no one could mistake for politics, for all they spent half of them discussing legal terms and historical precedents, budgets and grants, terms of service and patronage. (His Alexander was _smart,_ determined and tactical and completely aware of exactly what sort of people filled the Clave and his Court... and yet somehow never entirely hopeless, the wry twist of his sense of humor still there, no matter how dry or dull or difficult the news he had to share.)

Magnus took to wearing the Lightwood ring on a chain, (glamoured, of course, and long enough to hide under his clothes as well), and bought a small case, heavily warded and lined with watered silk, to hold his letters and the ring-box.

And then he had to get a second box because the first was full, letters overflowing their envelopes, the scent of paper and ink almost tangible against his face every time he opened it.

_Darling,_ Magnus thought every time he set pen to paper, _dearest, best beloved._ Sometimes he decorated the margins, curlicues of ink that were serieses of half-formed hearts, never quite all there, never quite clear enough to feel he'd crossed the careful line they were treading, balanced in this aching lingering moment of _what-if_ and _if only_ and _soon._

He told Alec of his own work, coordinating with Lucian and Meliorn, meeting with merchants and clerks and the neglected children of the nobility, all those second and third sons and daughters who never got the attention given to the heirs. He told Alec about Catarina's clinic and Dot's boutique and Ragnor's tutoring, the orphanages they sponsored and the fundraisers they threw, and told him about everyone who attended his own parties, the names of the sympathetic _nouveau riche,_ the ones Dulac ignored as _too common_ but who filled half the kingdom's coffers every year.

The ones who might be persuaded to side with the Lightwoods, if it came to that.

Magnus also told Alec about the quiet dark moments after he showed the last guests out of his home and stood on his balcony to watch the stars fade and the sun rise over the Palace. He'd touch a spark of magic to his signet ring until he could feel the resonance, the echo back from the one he'd given Alec, safe and secure across the city, and pretend he could see Alec there, looking back at him.

(Alec promised he was, almost every day, his fingers wrapped around the ring in his pocket, looking across Alicante as his day began, just when Magnus' was ending.)

The Palace had a Harvest feast that fall, spilling out of the Palace through half the city, but no Harvest Ball, nor a New Year's Ball, and Magnus wondered what the reactionaries thought of that, if they felt the sting of Royal Disapproval, or if they still thought they'd wear the Crown Prince down far enough he'd concede.

Idiots, the lot of them, to not recognize what sort of man their Crown Prince really was. The fact that the Palace still did the fireworks show, extravagant and hopeful and for _everyone,_ right at midnight as the year turned, bright enough the light washed over half the city, should have been so very obvious.

Though Magnus supposed that was to his advantage, getting Alec all to himself, even if only on paper.

(So much paper. He had to put a charm on the envelopes so no one would be able to tell how thick they were, so it wouldn't be so very obvious what sort of correspondence they were carrying on, week after week after week.)

Somehow it was spring again already, and the Lightwoods continued to refuse to host a single social event.

The Princess Isabelle still accepted invitations and attended Assemblies, but she'd been alternating the same two evening gowns to them for almost a _month,_ and seemed delighted to be making her statement in support of her brother as overt as possible. Prince Jace hadn't been seen in public in anything besides his Guard uniforms in just as long, and young Prince Maxwell announced he would be delaying his own eagerly anticipated formal presentation at Court until "the situation is resolved to our people's satisfaction".

It was an endless joy watching the Lightwoods rally around Alec's cause; even the sixteen year old refused to back down.

Magnus wanted to meet them all properly. Alec talked about his family in his letters all the time, and Magnus hoped they'd be pleased to meet him in return.

He couldn't wait. Well. That wasn't true. He would wait. He might not _like_ it, but he could.

Alexander was worth the wait.

Alec wasn't at the Summer Solstice Ball, though the rest of the Royal Family was (minus the youngest, of course, though this was supposed to be _his year_ ). Alec had told Magnus in his letters that he wouldn't be attending, and yet, Magnus couldn't help the disappointment every time he let his mind wander towards that one summer dance they'd managed, every time he couldn't help but wonder how long until they'd manage another.

But the Queen danced with Alpha Garroway, and Knight Meliorn, and then with _Jocelyn_ too _,_ and by the time she asked Magnus to dance he decided that this was apparently what his life was, now, and he might as well accept.

"I'm not going to introduce you to Isabelle or Jace, I know Alec wants to do that himself."

Magnus almost tripped, and was quite sure his face was making some sort of expression it shouldn't in public. Especially not at the _Queen._

She smiled at him, serene and sad, and waited until he got himself back under control before continuing. "I'm sorry we didn't do better twenty years ago."

Magnus just shook his head.

He couldn't. Not. The Queen of Idris was apologizing to _him,_ a warlock, at a Seelie hosted Ball, in full view of the entire Court. How was this his life? How was this his _world?_

The answer to both of those questions was, obviously, _because Alexander._

"I would have said yes, you know," Magnus heard himself saying. "If he'd used the Ball, and _asked,_ if he'd settled for the way things have always been done. It never would have occurred to me to think that any of this—" He lifted his chin, twisted a little extra in his next step to encompass the entire party around them. "I never would have thought this was possible, I can't blame you for not considering it either."

"Yes you can, but thank you." Her smile quirked, a hint of her son's dry humor in her eyes. "He does seem to think the world will adjust to his whims if he just glares at it hard enough."

"Is he wrong?" Magnus asked, mostly even seriously.

The Queen laughed, bright and loud enough to draw the eyes of everyone else in the area. "No, I suppose he's not."

The song ended, and the Queen stepped back, and offered him the barest hint of a courtesy in the spread of her hands and the dip of her chin. "I look forward to seeing you at the Harvest Ball this year."

Magnus choked his own attempt at a farewell, but managed a return bow with some semblance of grace, and then she was gone.

He finished off his current letter when he got home with a terribly inelegant _what the fuck, you told your mother?_

And then he ended it again, with something he'd never dared write before, not so clearly.

_I love you, my darling, and I cannot wait to see you at Harvest-time._

* * *

_alec_

"MOTHER!"

Alec stormed his way towards the Queen's sitting room, Magnus' latest letter clenched in his fist, and he barely noticed as everyone cleared out of the hallways on his way.

The Queen was alone, which was good, because he wasn't sure he'd manage to hold himself together after the door slammed shut behind him.

"What did you _do?_ "

Maryse looked up at him, and smiled. "I invited him to the Harvest Ball."

Alec opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled almost scream.

"You know what you need to do to end this, you just talked yourself out of it." She stood up from her vanity and walked across the room, the whisper of her slippers against the rug the only sound. She lifted her hand to his cheek, and he closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from leaning into the touch, unwilling to prevent the shaky exhale of the breath caught in his lungs. "He'll agree, darling, I know he will."

"Are you sure?" Alec had to force out the whisper, couldn't open his eyes, couldn't bear to see the expression on her face if she wasn't. "What about Izzy, or Max?"

Maryse _snorted,_ the sound such a surprise he blinked his eyes open and saw his mother roll her eyes at him. "I fear for the structural integrity of the Palace if you make your sister sit through a singular Clave meeting, much less a lifetime of them, and I'm relatively sure your brother would lose his temper and start throwing books at poor Lady Starkweather's head whenever she starts tangling up her historical anecdotes."

Alec felt his lips twitch, and the earlier fear and nerves slipped away on a laugh of his own. "Oh no, how am I going to keep a straight face at the next Open Court, I'm going to be picturing that the entire time she's talking."

Maryse grinned at him for just a breath, and then she shook out her skirts, her expression settling into something serious and steady. "Lady Dulac's granddaughter has the strongest claim after you and your siblings, you know that. It's the right answer."

"I have to ask Magnus. He'll be getting a... " Alec's voice trailed off. _Political ward? A permanent connection to one of the most racist women in the country? Half-a-daughter?_

"Of course." Maryse stepped back, making a shoo-ing motion with her hands. "Go on then, no reason to dawdle."

It was Alec's turn to snort, and he shook his head. "Thank you, mom."

"You're welcome." She stepped forward again, once, twice, and dropped a kiss on his cheek, before physically putting her hands on his shoulders to turn him around. "But really. Go on now."

He was still laughing softly when the door closed behind him.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to arrange a private meeting between two of the most public figures in the country, without anyone else noticing.

And then refrain from doing anything stupid in public for the next three months, until it all got settled.

Well. A _little_ stupid might help. Lady Dulac was already inclined to thinking he was an idiot; if he encouraged that impression, just a little, she'd be even more sure she was somehow getting the best of him rather than helping him resolve a knotty political problem before anyone else knew it was an issue.

_Issue._

Alec snorted softly, and headed back to his rooms to try and figure out what to say to Magnus, and how.

The Penhallow's had a very nice townhouse, with very high walls in the garden. That would probably work, and Aline was the only other person who already had most of the pieces, for all he hadn't talked to her directly about any of it since the Ball itself.

Aline first, then Magnus.

Alec found her in one of the small private study rooms off her favorite library.

Not just _her,_ though. He opened the door more quickly after knocking that she'd clearly expected, than _they'd_ expected, and while she and Helen Blackthorn were technically sitting in two separate chairs, the space between them was nonexistent, and the way they flinched apart at his entrance was eloquent.

Alec was forced to realize that he really _was_ as much of an idiot as Lady Dulac thought, if not in quite the same way she believed. "Have I really been that single-minded the last few years, or am I just a _moron_?"

Lady Blackthorn's mouth fell open, a bit of a flush on her cheeks as her half-mumbled _research_ excuse stopped before she'd really finished the sentence.

He realized he'd never managed to spend time with her informally, and she probably hadn't expected the Crown Prince to show up and call himself names in front of her today.

Luckily Aline laughed, which was enough for Helen's mouth to slam shut, to be replaced by a soft smile as she glanced sideways at her... _girlfriend_? "Never a moron, Alec."

Alec double checked that the door was _locked_ behind him this time, before stepping forward into the room proper.

"Maybe lock the door if you're going to be doing _research_ in the future?"

"Pretty sure Mom would find that suspicious," Aline answered, her voice steady, but he could see the way she was gripping Helen's hand much too tightly.

She wasn't wrong; Lady Jia Penhallow kept a very tight rein on her children and dependents. But Alec shook his head; she wasn't entirely right either. "Better suspicions than proof, especially before Harvest."

Aline's eyes widened. "You're—" Her voice was too thin, and she had to cough to get it back on track. "You're really going to do it, aren't you?"

"Is this why you wouldn't let me thank you for helping?"

"What?" Helen interrupted, clearly confused by the presumably entirely incomprehensible conversation. "No offense, your Highness, but _what?_ "

Alec grinned at her, as Aline pressed a kiss to her cheek with a soft _sorry, love._

Helen just shook her head, her eyes wide and a soft confused noise coming out of her mouth as she lifted a hand to gesture at Alec. "I didn't even know you could smile."

"And I didn't know Aline was involved with someone." Alec pulled out a chair across from them at the tiny table that almost filled the room and sat. He leaned forward, elbows pressing against the wood as he dropped his voice, low enough they both leaned forward to hear him better. "Or that my mother invited my secret fiance to the Harvest Ball this year and I would really like Aline's help arranging a chance to see him before we're a public commodity."

Helen made another noise, shock and confusion again, and she mouthed the word _him_.

Alec wondered what was wrong with him, that he was just letting his secrets go like this, but it was _Aline,_ and he couldn't find it in himself not to trust someone she loved.

"The _Queen_ invited?" Aline stuttered to a stop, and her second attempt wasn't much more successful. "But she hasn't even announced—there's a Harvest Ball? You haven't. What about... the Palace, Dulac?"

Alec shook his head again. "I need to talk to him first. Can I use your roses?"

Aline blinked. He gave her a moment.

And another one.

"My parents are visiting Aunt Vivanne at her Estate in a sennight?"

Alec sighed with relief, and leaned even further across the table to give Aline a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Aline managed a wobbly shrug-nod combination. "It's the least—"

"No," Alec cut her off. He reached out to take her hands in his. "It's not. _Thank you,_ Aline."

She shook her head, firmer this time. "It is. Considering I never even would have tried..." Her eyes closed as she leaned sideways, her shoulder pressing against Helen's. Her eyes opened again, clear and dark and serious. "I should thank you."

"We'll thank each other, then." Alec smiled at her, watched her expression soften. "Though I'm sure you would have." He shot a glance at Helen, who smiled too, small and still a little uncertain at this sudden intimacy with the heir to the Kingdom. "You have just as much reason as I do."

Aline managed a small laugh at that. "I don't think it would have occurred to me to change the world, I probably would have just tried to talk her into eloping."

Helen laughed, a sudden snort she clearly hadn't intended by the way she lifted a hand to cover her mouth when Aline and Alec both looked at her. "Wouldn't have taken much. I'd have said yes."

"Really?" Aline's voice was soft, and her expression gentle, and her hands slipped free of Alec's to reach for Helen's instead. "You mean that?"

Alec sat back and swallowed a snort of amusement. "Congratulations on your engagement?"

They both turned wide eyes at him, and he stood up. "And that's my cue to give you some privacy. I'll let you know which morning I need soon."

Aline nodded, and Helen's fingers tightened around hers, and Alec slipped out, pleased when he heard the lock turn behind him before he'd managed to take more than a step away.

He wrote his letter as soon as he got back to his rooms, unable to resist, remembering the soft note in Aline's voice, the way her and Helen's hands tangled together.

_I miss you. I miss the possibility of you, of all the things we've not yet had, holding your hand when we walk down the hall, sitting close enough at breakfast I can feel the warmth of your body next to me, being able to see how you look in the morning light, warm and soft and mine, as I am yours._

_How would you feel about_ not _waiting until Harvest? There are some things we should discuss before we fling ourselves before Clave and Court and Country. Including how dramatic an entrance you wish to make to the Harvest Ball. We have to make sure it's even better than last time, don't we?_

He told Magnus about the gardener's entrance to the Penhallow's place on Princewater Street, told him where and how, asked for when, and _hoped._

It was an easy sort of hope, warm and soothing. Something had settled in him at some point in the past few years, something that hadn't even needed Magnus to write out that "I love you" in his last letter because he already knew that it was true.

He'd said it back though.

Just because they didn't need it, didn't mean it wasn't nice to see, to share, clear black ink making it solid, making it true, making it last.

He believed that, he realized after he'd sent his own letter back. This was true. This would _last._

They hadn't even started yet, not really, but... that didn't matter. All that mattered was that they would.

They were almost there.

Until the morning Magnus picked was no longer an almost but was finally _here_ and _now,_ and Alec was standing in the Penhallow's rose garden trying to remember how to breathe, trying to pretend his heart was beating like normal rather than so hard that he was afraid his ribs would never stop aching.

There was the faintest sound of gravel underneath a boot and Magnus was _there_ and Alec barely managed to think _dear gods, he's so gorgeous_ before they'd both flung themselves across their half of the distance between them to meet in the middle, the impact a shock through Alec's chest, down his spine.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his heart, here at last where he could touch him. Alec tucked his head into the crook of Magnus' neck, felt the warmth of his skin and the strength in his arms, and _clung._

Magnus' weight shifted, and Alec couldn't stop the whimper in his throat, the tightening of his arms. It had been almost _three years_ of letters and waiting and dreaming and he'd never had this, he couldn't let go.

_Not yet, please._

Magnus squeezed back, as if he agreed.

Eventually, he had to move.

He couldn't let go entirely though. He kept his hand around Magnus' arm as he pulled them both over to a wrought iron bench near the middle of the garden, and let his grip slide until their hands were tangled together between them when they sat down.

"Hello, darling," Magnus whispered, and all Alec could do for a moment was smile at him, helpless and hopeful and delighted. It was Magnus who squeezed his hands, and gave a shake of his head, and finally had to ask. "What do you have planned, that makes this year different than last?"

"Do you know anything about the succession?" Alec asked.

Magnus frowned, and shrugged. "Only the obvious, you then your siblings, until you have children."

Alec tilted his head, a half a wry smile on his face. "Those aren't very likely, unless there's something you haven't told me, Magnus."

"Would that change things, if there was?" Magnus tapped a thumb against Alec's ring finger, still empty, still waiting.

"No." Alec blinked, swallowed something that was almost panic, almost bitter, almost something he didn't know how to name. "Though I'd be a little hurt that you hadn't brought it up before now, and it makes the plan much less elegant."

"Well, I would hate to be _less elegant._ " Magnus smiled, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. No, no possibility of heirs of your blood, not with me."

"You know I don't regret that, right?" Alec slipped one hand free, reached up to lay his palm against Magnus' cheek.

Magnus smiled, something wistful even as he leaned into Alec's touch. "You don't want to have a family?"

"Of course I do." Alec smiled back. "But I want to choose my family, with _you._ " He huffed out a breath, and swallowed. His hand drifted back down, wrapped around Magnus' again. "That's what I need to ask you, in fact."

"Have an heir in mind already?"

"Yes."

Magnus sat up straighter, clearly not expecting that answer. "What?"

"Lady Dulac's son Louis married my father's cousin, Victoria Lightwood. Their daughter Bethany is the next in line after Izzy and Max."

"You want to appoint a _Dulac_ as your heir?" Magnus' voice started out loud, almost strident, but it eased as he spoke. "You want to adopt an heir."

Alec squeezed Magnus' hands, waited until Magnus met his gaze. "She's only three. Her parents are dead and all she has is her Grandmother."

"Who is more concerned about her precedence than anything else."

Alec nodded, rubbed his thumbs softly against Magnus' hands. "We could give her a family."

"While convincing Lady Dulac you were bowing to her pressure, were setting her up as Grandmother to the future Queen."

Alec shrugged. He knew Magnus would figure it out. "As you said, Lady Dulac values her precedence."

"But she'd never agree to _me_ being a part of raising her granddaughter."

Alec felt one side of his mouth lift. "That's why she has to 'win' _before_ the Harvest Ball."

Magnus' mouth opened.

Alec waited.

"Before she knows you're gay, and engaged to a man, and not looking to have lots of heirs to fill the Palace."

Alec's smile widened. "So she thinks she's getting quite the coup, _her_ blood declared primary heir, even above the children she's assuming I'll have."

"Even above your siblings?"

Alec tried to nod and shake his head and shrug all at once; it didn't work terribly well. Magnus lifted an eyebrow at him. "As my mother reminded me, neither Izzy nor Max have any desire to be saddled with ruling. Nor are they particularly well-suited to it, via temperament or training."

"If they had to they'd make do?" Magnus offered.

"I'm sure they would, but they'd thank me for finding a way to spare them, without..." Alec trailed off, uncertain how to express how little they'd want him to sell himself into a political match just for heirs.

Magnus smiled, and this time he slipped a hand free to settle against the line of Alec's jaw. "I know what you mean."

Alec sighed, and closed his eyes, leaning into Magnus' touch. Magnus almost always knew what he meant, he'd never met anyone else who did, not like this. "I love you."

He heard Magnus' breath catch, and he opened his eyes to see the shine of Magnus' eyes as he smiled at him. "I love you, too."

"Are you ready for this?" Alec leaned forward until his forehead bumped Magnus', so close he could feel Magnus' breath against his face. "You'll never just be _Magnus Bane_ again."

"It's worth it," Magnus whispered. "To be yours."

"If ever it's not, you'll tell me, won't you?" Alec let his gaze flick across Magnus' face, watched how his eyes widened, the way the line of the frown between his brows deepened, saw the jump of the muscle in his jaw as his teeth clenched before he spoke.

"It would never," Magnus started, and Alec shook his head, made him stop.

"It might, and I would walk away from all of this, because you're worth everything, too."

"Alexander," Magnus whispered, and he swallowed.

"I know we can do a lot of good, can help a lot of people, but Magnus." It was Alec's turn to swallow, to feel the tension in his jaw as he tried to find the right words, tried to force them out. "I'm too selfish to give you up for the rest of the country. If it comes to that, I _won't._ "

"Good." Magnus smiled, sharp and teasing, but his eyelashes were damp and Alec could see how his nonconchalance was a mask. A harmless one, necessary probably, for the fact that they were going to have to leave this garden separately at some point soon, but a mask nonetheless. Magnus knew exactly how serious this was, for the both of them. "I won't let you."

"Good," Alec breathed out.

Magnus tilted his chin, just a little, just enough, and Alec let himself fall that last breath forward until their lips met. Their kiss was soft and slow, and Alec lingered there, in the warmth of Magnus' mouth, the way they shared breath, and heat, and heart, in the feel of Magnus' fingers curled around the back of his neck, fingertips catching on his hair. He stayed there, kissing Magnus, until his lungs ached and his heart burned, and he knew he'd wait another three years to kiss Magnus again, that it would be worth the wait, _always,_ but gods he hoped he never had to wait again.

Eventually they started to ease apart, and Alec kissed the corner of Magnus' mouth, and Magnus kissed the tip of his nose, and they neither of them could stop smiling, could let each other go.

"Time to plan our grand entrance, then?"

Alec laughed, and kissed Magnus' temple, joy singing beneath his skin, between his bones. "I like the sound of that."

Magnus hummed, a question caught in the light in his eyes.

" _Our_ grand entrance," Alec repeated, and laughed again as Magnus' smile widened.

" _Ours._ "

* * *

_magnus_

There'd been some grumbling throughout the capital when Alec's plan first became public knowledge, the more progressive factions angry that Lady Dulac was so pleased, certain it meant they'd lost too much ground, that the Royal family had conceded too easily, that their fight was only going to get harder.

Most of that faded away after Alec's first public appearance with Bethany Dulac, the new heiress, now Princess Lightwood, perched on his hip, her fingers gripping the lapel of his coat, the brown curls of her hair shining against the gold braid looped across his chest as she rested her head against him. Their rapport was so clear, and so sincere, and she was young enough that most people realized she would be the Prince's more than she'd ever been Lady Dulac's.

Except, apparently, for Lady Dulac herself, who stood behind them, smiling serenely, the glint of triumph clear in her eyes.

Magnus quite gleefully ignored her, and watched Alec and young Bethany instead, from his place across the Hall. He fell in love all over again at the sight, the spread of Alec's fingers around her leg or across her back as he held her close, the way she blinked up at him when he spoke, the hint of a smile on his face whenever she shifted her weight to look around.

Magnus fell in love with both of them, and hoped desperately she'd be glad to meet him too.

And then the invitations for the Harvest Ball started arriving.

Luke and Jocelyn got one, as did Maia and Gretel from the court case that started it all, and every other Alpha in the _country._ Meliorn and a slew of his people were invited; Magnus heard a rumour that they'd sent one to the Seelie Queen herself, though obviously no one expected her to leave her own festivities in order to attend, the gesture was symbolic, but oh, it was stunning.

Magnus got one, of course, and every other High Warlock he knew, in Idris and out of it. When Ragnor and Catarina and Dorothea showed up at his house, wide-eyed and waving their own invitations around, Magnus was so delighted that he started crying.

"What the hell, Magnus!" Dot fluttered and Cat led him to a chair and Ragnor poured him a drink, and under it all he heard the echo of Alec's voice from that first Ball, _I'm not going to ask, not until you can bring your friends and allies here to the Palace._

"He did it." Magnus gripped Cat's hands, and stared into her eyes, and he knew she had no idea what he was talking about. "He _did it._ "

Ragnor gave him his drink and Cat's face was caught half-way between a frown and a smile while Dot asked him what he was talking about. Magnus cleared his throat. "Whatever are we all going to wear?"

Cat and Dot shared some very well-rolled eyes, and Ragnor got himself his own drink with a sigh.

Magnus smiled.

As if he hadn't already decided on an outfit for this occasion almost three years ago, with a few minor adjustments to fit the shift of fashion.

And perhaps to make a little statement of his own, just for Alexander.

Magnus told his friends they must have just been some _local contingent_ invited to help make the Palace's point. He knew they'd all been invited because they were _his_ friends, and this wasn't just a Ball but actually _his_ engagement party, but he couldn't tell them that quite yet.

He said he'd go with the other High Warlocks, the Alphas who'd never been to the Palace before, and that he'd meet the rest of them there.

(He told the political contingent that he was going with the locals.)

There was no one besides his Alexander who knew that he was going early.

Because the only thing better than a Grand Entrance, was making everyone else _come to them._

Because the only thing more important than this announcement, public and irreversible, was meeting his almost _daughter._ (Who was even more adorable up close, and they bonded very quickly by talking about how much they both like Alec. Who turned a very pleasing shade of pink during their conversation, and stayed that way through most of their stolen afternoon together, but couldn't stop smiling.)

Bethany hugged him when it was time for him to go, and he blinked at the door after she left, trying desperately not to give away the ache in his chest, the thrum of his magic dancing in a painful surge of hope beneath his skin. Alec's hand settled on his shoulder, warm and comforting, and Magnus turned into Alec's embrace, his face pressed against Alec's shoulder, and let his eyes overflow, forgetting about his make-up and their plans, just letting himself _feel._

He wasn't going to have to hide this, he wasn't going to have to disappear into the shadows, he wasn't going to have to go home alone.

_Never again._

He heard Alec sniff, and felt the press of Alec's lips through his hair on top of his head, and he wasn't alone in this, either, in being overwhelmed at everything that had happened, was happening, was about to happen.

He heard someone clear their throat from the direction of the doorway, and his hands tightened their grip until he could feel the fabric pulling taut across Alec's back.

"You both need to get ready." The woman's voice he heard was a touch amused, but so soft and warm that despite some slight familiarity, he couldn't quite place it.

"Thanks, Mom," Alec whispered, and Magnus tensed, and blinked, felt the rub of cloth against his eyelashes. Oh _gods,_ he'd just cried all over some royal jacket, they were both assuredly a _mess..._ and in front of the _Queen._

Alec's hand rubbed between his shoulder-blades, clearly trying to get him to relax again.

Magnus shook his head. He was not about to lift his head and let the Queen see whatever had happened to his eyeliner. Or whatever his mascara had done to Alec's clothes.

He couldn't quite catch whatever the Queen did next, but he felt Alec nod, and then he heard the tap of a heel against the hard-wood floor in the hallway and the click of the door shutting, and he made himself exhale.

They were alone again.

He lifted his head.

Alec's thumb rubbed across his cheekbone, and he smiled, though his eyes were red and his lashes damp. Magnus let himself glance at Alec's shoulder, which was exactly as smeared with black streaks as he'd expected. He huffed out a damp laugh. "We do need to get cleaned up don't we?"

Alec let his hands fall from their place cradling Magnus' jaw, looking down at his shoulder even as he tugged down on the hem to pull his jacket straight. "My sister's been trying to get me to stop wearing this thing for years, I'm sure she'll be thrilled not to see it again." His mouth quirked up into a crooked smile. "You can tell her you talked me into it, it'll be a great first impression."

"We can skip the part where it was mascara and emotion based rather than my clever arguments?"

Alec's smile widened, soft and happy. "Absolutely. You're also very clever, she'll never suspect a thing."

Magnus allowed himself a soft chuckle, and kissed Alec's cheek, because if he kissed him properly he wouldn't want to stop and get ready.

He had a feeling he'd never want to stop kissing Alec properly, and wasn't that a lovely thought?

But not one he could afford to linger in right now.

"Right, then." Magnus stepped back, and clapped his hands, and made himself think: _business before pleasure._ Besides, he did want to show off his outfit. He thought Alec would appreciate it. (He knew Alec would appreciate it. He thought Alec's family would too, though, which was arguably as important.) He picked up the bag he'd packed, and raised his eyebrows at Alec. "Dressing room?"

Alec walked him to a near-by room with a vanity and wash-basin and mirrors positioned perfectly to allow a full-body view. "Here you go, I'll meet you back in the sitting room we were in, and then we'll head to the Hall together?"

Magnus nodded, and kissed his cheek again just because he _could,_ and stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a very gentle _click_ as the latch engaged.

Time to armor up.

Hair, make-up, clothes... _shoes._

He was inordinately fond of the shoes; he'd had to pick Dot's brain to figure out how to make them into something comfortable enough to wear all night. It had been a bit of an adventure, that conversation, considering he didn't want to tell her what exactly he was making, or why.

He was mostly sure she had decided he was just being _Magnus_ about an odd point of magical theory.

She wasn't entirely wrong, either.

But _oh,_ they did make a lovely clear _tap_ against the floor once he was ready and walking down the hall again.

He didn't even try not to grin.

He paused outside the door, the door Alec was assuredly waiting behind, he was clearly the sort who'd streamlined his process for formal events as much as physically possible, and let out one hard breath. This was it. The beginning of the end. The beginning of the beginning?

Tonight was _it._

He felt like he was trembling, but his hand looked steady as he reached out to push the door open and his footsteps were even as he stepped inside.

He stopped as the door swung shut behind him and swallowed. Alec was dressed entirely in black, sleek and understated, exquisitely tailored and high collared, ( _dear gods those shoulders!_ ), with abstract curls of silver embroidery down the outside seam of his trousers that somehow made him look even taller and longer-legged than usual.

He wasn't wearing any jewelry but he was holding Magnus' signet ring in his hand and Magnus knew, once he put it on, that it would be the brightest thing in his outfit, would stand out on his hand and draw the eye; it was as if his entire outfit was designed to say _I belong to Magnus Bane._

"Ohhh," Magnus sighed, feeling his smile wobble as warmth rose up in his throat, behind his eyes. "Darling, you are stunning."

Alec shook his head, just a little, his gaze heavy as he looked Magnus up and down, along the raw silk of his dark blue trousers, the hint of a hand-painted waistcoat and snowy-white collars and cuffs. Magnus preened, a lift of his chain and his shoulders swaying back and forth beneath the heavy silk of his embroidered jacket, silver and dark blue on white, designed to catch the light and make him shine. To make sure he'd shine all the light in the Hall back onto his Alexander.

"You're the most gorgeous man I've ever seen."

Magnus was half sure he was blushing, and he didn't even mind. "Thank you."

He took another step forward, starting to reach forward, when Alec blinked and stared downward.

"Are those shoes _glass_?"

"Crystal." Magnus managed to make his shrug look easy, even as he felt more heat rise up beneath his skin. "It is our third anniversary. It seemed appropriate."

"They're beautiful." Alec stepped forward now, reaching out to take Magnus' hands in his. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long."

"Psh," Magnus shook his head, tightened his fingers around Alec's. "I would have waited until I needed silver shoes, or gold. You're worth the wait."

Alec swallowed, and his eyes shone. He leaned forward to press a careful kiss to Magnus' temple, lightly enough to avoid make-up and carefully fashioned hair, gently enough to prevent either of them from overdoing it. "So are you."

"Ready?" Alec offered his hand, the signet ring settled neatly on his palm.

Magnus took it, turned Alec's hand and carefully slid the ring into place on Alec's third finger. "Perfect," he whispered, his voice huskier than he'd intended.

"Almost." Alec's voice wasn't any smoother than Magnus' had been. He turned his hand until his thumb rested against Magnus' bare ring finger.

Magnus pulled a hand free just long enough to snap his fingers, and the Lightwood ring popped off his necklace and into his hand.

Alec snorted. "Show-off."

"You love it."

"I do," Alec agreed, without a pause. "I love you."

Magnus' chest ached, sweet and lingering, as he held the ring out, and Alec's fingers were warm as they cradled Magnus' hand and put the ring on him.

"I love you, too," Magnus said. He leaned in and let himself kiss Alec one more time, let their lips brush, before settling his weight back onto his heels. "Shall we?"

Alec offered his arm, and Magnus took it, and they made their way to the ballroom. They'd be there, already waiting, when the doors opened, and the very first guests entered.

A united front; to begin as they meant to go on. Magnus squeezed Alec's arm, and Alec leaned in, his shoulder pressing against Magnus' before they shared a brief smile.

Magnus couldn't wait.

And he didn't have to, not anymore.

They'd made it.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks, yet again, to the amazing [ruth](https://twitter.com/rutherina) for the beta. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on discord or [twitter](https://twitter.com/faejilly) or [tumblr](https://faejilly.tumblr.com/) with comments or questions or prompts; I like the chatting part of fandom, but I'm kind of terrible at responding to comments on AO3. (I read them all tho! So thank you, if you've ever left one and wondered, I guarantee I grinned like a loon and might have literally hugged my phone to my chest with glee.)
> 
> The title is from yet another cummings poem, but I got it out of my gigantic book and I can't find it online to link. It's a very Alec sort of thought though, isn't it? (Magnus will do the impossible for you as well, of course, but Alec will tell you that you can *ask* for it, and that's just my very favorite thing.)


End file.
